Strange Weather in Tokyo.

Strange name for a book and stranger was the way in which I happened to read it. A friend who was invited for lunch knew that I love books and he arrived lugging five books none of which belonged to any of the genres that I prefer reading. (My preferred reading comprises fantasy, historical fiction, science-fiction, and thrillers – in that order.)

I think he must’ve generalized that being a woman I would be interested in romance and so two out of the five books were in the Romance genre. One was “The Winner Stands Alone” by Paulo Coelho and one was a thriller –  “The Girl who Played with Fire” by Stieg Larsson. If you’ve read my recent posts, you know that for the last one year, I’ve been terribly distracted, so despite picking up “The Girl who Played with Fire” first, I gave up after a few pages. Then I picked up the 175 pages long (or short) “Strange Weather in Tokyo,” and was pleasantly surprised that its simple narrative kept me engaged.

———– Spoiler Alert ———–

The heroine of the novel, Tsukiko is a 37-year-old single woman who meets her high-school teacher at a bar. The teacher is over 60, widowed and a man who leads a simple life. Gradually, for no particular reason, except perhaps her loneliness, Tsukiko starts enjoying her random encounters with her teacher, who she calls “Sensei” throughout the book. Eventually, she realizes that she has fallen in love with him, when she becomes jealous of the attention he showers on a woman teacher. 

———– Spoiler Alert ———–

The storyline, as you can see, is fairly simple and straightforward. I prefer stories with complex plots (Philippa Gregory’s Tudor books are some of my favorites.) The characters are simple and straightforward too. I like complex, layered characters (Tyrion Lannister of the Game of Thrones is one of my favorites.) The settings don’t change much and the descriptions don’t have enough details – in fact, I still don’t know what everyone looks like. I like to “see” the places, “watch” the events unfold, “look at” the characters…

And yet, I read the whole book at a time when I couldn’t get myself to read at all. I think Hiromi Kawakami, the author, wanted to achieve just that. Her book is polite and laid-back like her characters, the love-story is devoid of passion – it just…flows along, and that’s the charm of the book.

Here’s a picture.

I guess that’s all 🙂

(And if I am starting to add smilies at the end of my sentences, I am already on my way to meet and bring back my old, happier self.)

2019 & Writing.

If I were one of my characters, I’d say that 2018 was a monster from the depths of hell, but I am not, so I’ll just call it a terrible year and lock it up in my diaries.

Now about 2019…

A story is out there milling in the slush-pile of a publisher, another is lounging here in my desk-drawer, a couple are waiting to be yanked out of the dark recesses of my mind so that they find their true form. But being a writer-artist (or an artist-writer, depending on who rules the roost at the time of speaking,) makes the tussle even greater. When a story peeps out, the artist brandishes her brush and shoo-es it back in; and when the writer finally gets down to writing it, the artist seduces the writer with her colorful palette and the promises of an incredible visual treat.